


Please Don't Leave Me

by SlasherFiend



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Post-Episode: s06e05 Radio Silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8905573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/pseuds/SlasherFiend
Summary: Stiles had listened to Peter, he actually believed they were stuck in the train station.Except Peter was wrong and just been snippy, now he has to make it up to Stiles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write this because of Stiles' 'who would ever come for you?' line to Peter. Meaning I had to fix it.  
> Yes the title is a Pink song
> 
> Unbeated, all mistakes are my own.

Stiles sat with his back against the wall, he was distraught. He had every reason to be, but if Peter was being honest with himself, he couldn’t stand to see the kid look so hopeless.

Even if Stiles wanted to go back to his stupid friends, self-sacrificing Scott among them, then who was Peter to stop him?

Peter knew Stiles always had a plan, it was one of the many reasons he liked the human. So seeing him like this, and realizing the words they had exchanged in the tunnel was partly the cause made Peter almost regret what he said, almost. He went over to Stiles.

“Go away Peter,” Stiles muttered. “You were right, we’re stuck here, there’s no way to get out to my friends. They don’t remember me.”

Peter took a deep breath, he was going to have to prove Stiles wrong, get him to think of something, a plan, and that required a pep talk. Not Peter’s best skill, but…He kicked Stiles’ Converse, getting the kid to look at him, glaring.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Peter told him.

Stiles frowned.

“Your friends may be annoying, most certainly, but they would *never* forget you. You said it so yourself.”

Stiles arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, but *you’re* the one that said…,” Stiles started to say.

“Forget what I said,” Peter huffed.

Both of Stiles’ eyebrows rose.

“Just for the moment,” Peter clarified. “You can’t give up, that’s not who you are. You’re not overly optimistic, but you expect the best from bad situations, which makes you unique.”

Peter went to sit down next to Stiles. “How could someone ever forget you?” he asked softly.

Stiles blinked, and then tilted his head. “Why do you give a shit? Why try to make me feel better?”

Peter sighed. “Because,” he drawled, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “I like you; I don’t know how many times I have to say it…”

“You expect me to find a way out so you can go too,” Stiles stated.

Peter turned to Stiles. “Of course I want to get out of here; I thought that was well established.”

“You *just* told me in the tunnel to forget about trying to get out of here,” Stiles hissed, turning to face Peter, they were inches apart.

“Yes and this is what it’s done to you,” Peter told him.

Stiles moved back, all anger dissipating.

“Do you regret saying it?” Stiles asked slowly.

Peter leveled his gaze at Stiles.

“That doesn’t matter,” Peter told him. “What matters is getting out of here. Which means…we have to play nice at least for the moment.”

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he said and got up, going over to sit back on the benches, to sulk.

Peter heaved out a sigh. That could have gone better.

Peter followed Stiles back over and plopped down next to him.

Stiles looked ready to really tell him off.

“Why don’t we try the radio again?” Peter offered. “That way we’ll have warning when they’re coming, and maybe we can figure out a way to contact your little buddies.”

Stiles nodded slowly. “Only to get the thing to work,” he said, going over to the intercom door.

 

Peter followed and they set about pulling cables, flipping switches, putting the cables back in other outlets.

After some time, Stiles sank into the chair and groaned. “Nothing, we can’t even repeat what we did last time.”

Peter was standing by the switchboard. “That’s because all of these dials look exactly the same and are conveniently not labeled.”

Stiles ran a hand into his hair, using his foot to turn back and forth slightly in the chair, which squeaked.

Peter flinched at the sound. “That’s not helping,” he growled.

Stiles smirked. “Now you know how I feel,” he said, he was enjoying this.

“An irritating sound on my ears is not the same as my slightly deterred encouragement,” Peter informed him.

Stiles laughed.

Peter spun around, Stiles had *laughed*.

It was nice to hear, everyone was so down in the dumps here and the constant knowledge that more people were being taken here by the ghost riders was unsettling knowing that there’d be nowhere to go without being around another person. You could have your space but at the same time you couldn’t.

Peter knew Stiles was insinuating that his talking had been irritating and just rolled his eyes, turning back to the dials.

“Were you-did that surprise you? That I thought it was funny?” Stiles asked.

“It’s very boring here Stiles,” Peter answered. “To hear you be happy for two seconds, even at my expense, is a miracle.” He fiddled with a few dials.

There was soft clicking as Stiles tried a few buttons on the machines in front of him on the desk. Static came through the speakers, not as loud as before.

“Well we got half of it going again,” Peter said, turning around. He watched Stiles look around the machine.

“We need to do something else, to amplify the sound,” Stiles explained.

“What did you do last time?” Peter asked.

“Uh,” Stiles replied. “I don’t know, I think some of it was already set up…there was something under the desk…” He pushed the chair out of the way and crouched down.

Peter hadn’t paid attention when they were in here before, but now, seeing Stiles on his knees, lithe fingers reaching for an exposed wire, well it stirred up latent feelings inside the wolf. Feelings he hadn’t had or even wanted to act on since he had been outside Eichen.

“I don’t want to ask, but are you really getting a boner over me splicing some wires together?” Stiles asked.

Oh, Peter hadn’t registered that he’d been staring.

He’d been thinking of Stiles’ fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, blush spread from his cheeks down his chest.

Peter blinked, Stiles was standing.

The static was louder, all they were missing was the high pitched whine.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Stiles said, gazing at the machines on the table.

Peter snorted. “No, it takes more than that to turn me on.”

Stiles humphed, fingers tracing patterns in the dust on one corner that hadn’t been blown away when the ghost rider had trashed the room earlier.

“How does one usually…masturbate in a place like this?” Stiles asked after a moment and Peter shrugged.

“No one’s tried since I’ve been here, you’re the liveliest person so far,” he answered.

“Do you want me to leave so you can?” Stiles asked, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

Peter smirked, tilting his head, sniffing the air. It was hard to get a correct pinpoint on Stiles’ scent due to the dust in the air, but it was tinged with shame. “Are you embarrassed because you don’t want to think about me masturbating while you stand watch?” Peter asked.

“Well, yeah,” Stiles huffed.

Arousal rose into Stiles’ scent and Peter grinned. “Is that all?” he asked, walking over to Stiles. Because this was a turn of events Peter hadn't anticipated. They had gone to arguing with each other, to grudgingly working together, to talking about what made them horny. Oh, the minds of teenagers. Well, in this case, one skinny plaid wearing teenager.

Stiles looked up, eyes wide, he backed up a few steps, realizing that Peter had caught his scent.

“Maybe you like thinking about me touching myself,” Peter said softly, turning and grabbing the chair, bringing it towards Stiles.

Stiles watched Peter and licked his lips, thinking.

Peter waited for a reaction.

After a moment Stiles cast his gaze to the floor. “Maybe I’ve wondered about it before,” he muttered. “I mean…you’re hot and always wearing V-necks and it’s not exactly fair, toying with my desires like that.”

Peter chuckled. “Maybe we can compromise,” he said, waiting for Stiles to look him in the eye.

“Yeah?” Stiles asked slowly, arching an eyebrow as he didn’t trust Peter still. They were only supposed to be in here to get contact again.

Peter wheeled the chair behind Stiles, and then sank to his knees.

Stiles gasped, sitting down in the chair.

Peter pulled him closer, nestling his body between the boy’s legs.

Peter reached out to undo the button on Stiles’ pants, when he felt hands in his hair, pushing against his head.

“Wait…Hang on a second,” Stiles said, voice cracking.

Peter looked up.

“Wow,” Stiles said in a small voice.

He shook his head, like he didn’t want to get distracted. “You didn’t even tell me your offer.”

Peter smiled. “I’ll get you off,” he said. “I don’t need the deed returned, but you have to promise to not give up about wanting to get out of here.”

Stiles gave him a look, like ‘you were the one that gave up before, not me.’

“Who knows what’s going to happen since the ghost riders know we’ve been in here once already,” Peter explained. “We could get separated.”

Stiles thought there was a possibility they could get killed too, but he knew Peter well enough that the wolf would to anything to save his own butt first and foremost. And it wasn't like there was any harm in this right? This would put any complications or grudges in the past, or so Stiles hoped.

Stiles nodded.

“Promise?” Peter asked, hands on Stiles’ thighs.

Stiles sucked a breath in and bit his lip, nodding.

Peter grinned. “Good,” he said and undid Stiles’ pants, reaching in and taking out his cock.

The flesh was interested, from the talk of Peter touching himself. Peter stroked slowly, tugging at the head.

Stiles groaned.

Peter kept stroking for a few moments before removing his hand, licked down the palm, and then wrapped his fingers back around Stiles.

“Shit,” Stiles whined, fingers winding into Peter’s hair, tugging slightly.

Peter pumped the warm flesh, slightly slick wet sounds accompanied him.

Stiles breathed, panting over Peter, spreading his legs wider, as much as the chair would allow. “Never thought this…that’d you…oh fffuCK!” Stiles gripped Peter’s hair, pulling him closer, legs squeezing against the older man. “Gonna’…Peter, I’m…” Stiles gasped.

Peter nodded. “Go on Stiles,” he purred. He could practically taste how pent up Stiles was.

The kid was so busy trying to keep Scott in line, that was enough stress right there, and being a teenager meant this was never going to be anything but fast. But Peter didn’t mind. They didn’t have all the time in the world, there was no warning to when the ghost riders were coming back, and Peter knew once they got everything set up again, they’d have to go back to acting like nothing had happened.

A few more flicks of his wrist and Peter watched Stiles come, it dribbled onto his knuckles.

Stiles panted hard as Peter moved back, licking the salty seed off his hand.

Stiles groaned. “I just came,” he whined. “But that’s hot.”

Peter smirked, at least Stiles was honest. He got on his feet, turning away to let Stiles tuck himself back in his pants.

Peter turned back to the dials.

He walked over, seeing the dial he had touched before, his angle from the floor had let him see the displaced dust. He went over and cranked it up.

Peter flinched a small bit; the torment was over quickly as Stiles dialed the feedback down.

Peter sighed. “I still couldn’t tell you what we did,” he said, turning to take a look around the semi ordered room.

Stiles fiddled with the knobs on the speaker before him. “Whatever we did can let us track the ghost riders though,” he said, glancing at Peter as they heard the faint whinny of horses.

"That doesn't give us a plan though," Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If one of us is separated, somehow, we need to have an idea on how to fight back."

Stiles leaned back, looking at Peter. “Why do you keep saying that we could get separated? You were adamant that we weren’t going to get out of here, now you changed your mind. Why?”

“Someone did come for me,” Peter said softly, waited a moment, and then walked out of the room.

Peter had made it two steps before he heard, “Wait a second!” and smiled, as Stiles had caught on to the double meaning.

The teen followed, but there was no time to talk as the ghost riders came barreling in, scattering the other people gathered in the station.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Stiles knew why Peter had made him promise to not give up hope on getting out, because the wolf had been sure he was going to have to be the one to leave. Stiles was sure Peter was going to make it, he had gone through worse, and even if he wasn’t an Alpha, he’d still be able to call Scott, Malia, Liam, and Hayden.

Stiles wasn’t worried about any of that, he knew Peter wouldn’t leave him here alone.

So what was this heavy feeling he had as he twisted the wires back in place and flipped the switch? Was he afraid Peter was going to forget him? It was more than that; it was that Peter wouldn’t know how Stiles really felt. It was more than thinking he was hot…

“Stiles, is that you?”

Stiles hit the button.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr, shipperfiendobssesser, come message me :)


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